The Sucker Punch Never Came
by Sandilynn Petersen
Summary: Murdock is frightened of something or someone at the hospital. What or who he is afraid of Face does not know. Is Murdock's fear something which can be fought in the real world or is it something in his mind? My first attempt at fanfiction. R/R
1. Chapter 1 The Shadow Spy

Disclaimer: I do not own The A-Team or any characters related to the television show or movie of the same name.

The Sucker Punch Never Came

Chapter One. The Shadow Spy

Templeton Peck was relieved when Murdock finally entered the small grove of trees on the grounds of the VA Psychiatric Hospital.

"What took you so long? I've been waiting here for close to a half hour. I thought I was going to have to come find you." Face's exasperation with Murdock's delay faded when he took in his best friend's somber mood.

"I'm bein' watched. I had to make sure _he_ was with his shrink before I could get away. Even now . . ."

And Murdock glanced nervously around him. When he seemed assured no one was paying attention, he let out a frustrated sigh and turned back to his friend.

Face narrowed his eyes and scrutinized the pilot's demeanor. Murdock was wired and jumpy. His hands trembled.

When Murdock saw Face's attention diverted to his hands, he stuffed them in his pockets and tried to smile. The result was a ghastly, wan effort without any real warmth. Not at all like the carefree perpetually optimistic soul Face had come to know and love as a brother.

"Something wrong? Is someone threatening you?" Face's brow furrowed and he put his hand on his friend's shoulder. Murdock's barely perceptible flinch did not escape his notice. Though he was trying to mask it, the pilot's fear was so palpable, Face felt a gut twinge of it himself and dropped his hand to his side.

Then Murdock grinned. "Aw, you know me. Probably a bit of a nightmare trying to haunt me during the day." He glanced behind himself to the nearest trees, gestured with his hands and whispered, "Shoo! Go away, nightmare!"

Face brought one hand up to his head and smoothed back his hair. Was this dread he could see written all over his friend's movements and countenance the result of another figment of Murdock's imagination? Or was his friend being stalked?

When Murdock turned back to him, Face caught a fleeting glimpse of his inner struggle to squelch whatever was troubling him. Murdock squared his shoulders and planted his hands back in the pockets of his khaki pants.

"So . . ." The word hung in the uncomfortable silence between them. They had never before been unable to carry on a conversation.

Murdock closed his eyes for a second to reorder his thoughts, then cleared his throat. "How's the Colonel? Did he get that voice part? What was it now? Some commercial for an Aquamaniac kids' cereal?"

"No . . . no, that fell through. The new Aquamaniac movie is in final production, though." Face smiled.

In the distance someone laughed and Murdock's body tensed. He swiveled his head toward the sound, his eyes widening. When he determined no one was approaching, he asked, "And the Big Guy? What's B. A. up to?" He did not turn back to his friend but continued to scan the grove's perimeter.

"Busy with the youth center. Teaching some of the older boys how to defend themselves. Fitting the van out with some better speakers. The usual stuff." Murdock nodded, a quick up and down movement of his head, as if he were only half-listening.

"And you? You still takin' care of that beach house for that actress? Where'd she go? Europe? Australia?" Murdock said all of this without once looking at Face. His attention was fully engaged on whatever shadow spy was lurking outside the shade of their meeting place.

"She's on a publicity tour in England. Her place is well-equipped for any kind of entertaining I need to do. Listen, if you need to get back to the hospital . . . " Face startled when a twig snapped and leaves rustled just outside the surrounding trees.

Murdock drew himself up to his full height. He swallowed once and the fear was back in his eyes. _Or had it ever_ _left?_ He became very businesslike and he took one of Face's hands in his own and shook it vigorously.

"Right. Then you'll get the paperwork going to swing some of my monthly VA benefits over to that orphanage I heard about on TV? Good. Come back with the papers and I'll be waitin' to sign them. Now, you'd better scoot. It's almost time for lunch and you might not like the stewed prunes they serve." Murdock held Face's gaze for a moment, searching his eyes as if willing him to understand something he could not say out loud.

After a final firm hand clasp, Murdock turned away and strode out of the grove and across the lawn. His pace quickened as he neared the building. With one last furtive searching look around him, he threw open the door and went inside.

Face watched him, his forehead puckered with worry. Either Murdock was becoming more paranoid than he had ever been or someone was threatening him. He would talk to the guys and come back in a couple of days to visit.


	2. Chapter 2 Shall We Dance?

Chapter 2 Shall We Dance?

Murdock was quite sure the attendants would not bring his lunch to his room today. He had been in one of his calm cycles lately.

The staff, while still monitoring him for the telltale signs of agitation fits, paranoid speech and sullen withdrawal, gave him a little more freedom during these periods. They expected him to pick up more slack in his own self-care. That included taking lunch in the day room with the rest of the ambulatories and getting there under his own power.

They had too many patients who required greater care. It was a well-choreographed dance, his therapy and treatment. He had learned to lead with his left.

As that thought came into his mind, Murdock smiled. _Was he really crazy? Or was he Fred Astaire sweeping Ginger across the ballroom floor, his highly polished dancing shoes never missing a step, making it all look too__ easy? __  
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He swung his legs over the edge of his bed and went to his window. Reaching down, he checked the trip alarm for the tenth time that day. He had to assure himself that should his shadow spy access the room from that direction, the noise from the assembled objects would cause the intruder to flee to avoid detection. Murdock wasn't sure his stalker would run; he prayed he would.

Time for lunch. Murdock's stomach moaned its need. Energy was required to stay alert. With the mantra _Food is energy, food is fuel _setting the beat for his movement, Murdock headed for the door.

He paused with his hand barely touching the doorknob. Putting his face close to the grated observation window, he strained his eyes to see up and down the hallway. Except for the nurse at her centralized station and an attendant mopping up what looked like urine from in front of Scott's room down the hall, he saw no one.

_Good. Maybe I can slip in, refuel the ol' tank and slip back out without him seeing me. _

Moving down the hallway now, he tipped an imaginary top hat to the nurse at her station. The pretty one, Donna, was on duty today. He was almost positive she was catching on to Face's scams to spring him when his services were required. Just the way she gazed at Face whenever he was wheeling Murdock from the facility made him suspicious she knew something was up.

She smiled at Murdock. Maybe it was the way her lips framed her teeth, but her sweet expression never failed to elicit a response from her patient.

"Some caviar and champagne later, my dear, after the show tonight?" Murdock swept her hand in his and kissed it gently before returning it to her waiting patient charts.

Pink blossomed in her cheeks as she murmured, "But of course, Mr. Astaire."

"I'll be taking my meal in the Cafe Riviera today." He slowly and deliberately winked at her and was not surprised when she echoed the gesture before returning to her work.

Whistling the tune to "Shall We Dance?" Murdock continued down the hall. As he neared the day room, he slowed his pace and heightened his vigilance once again. After peering in and noting who was present and, more importantly, who wasn't, he drifted in and found an armchair facing the doorway and near a window. Jack the day room attendant brought him a tray and Murdock nodded his thanks.

He found he was more hungry than his stomach had indicated and before ten minutes had passed, most of the food in front of him was gone.

Faceman wouldn't have enjoyed this as much as I am, Murdock thought as he speared a stewed prune and eyed it before popping it in his mouth. In mid-chew, he looked up at the doorway and hastily swallowed.

_He's here!_

The morsel caused a fit of choking and coughing. That, in turn, brought Jack to his side.

"Swallow wrong?" the attendant asked as he assessed Murdock's condition. Murdock nodded vigorously and cleared his throat, still coughing. Jack took the styrofoam cup from the tray and filled it at the day room sink. Kneeling on one knee, with one hand on Murdock's back and the other holding the cup to the pilot's mouth, the attendant helped him sip the water.

His coughing spasms ended, Murdock motioned the cup away and gazed at the doorway. An attendant wheeled a mumbling patient in to the room but no one else was there. Murdock scanned the room, his eyes taking in every possible hiding place. Nothing out of the ordinary. His jaw tightened and he gestured for Jack to come near. A chill shot up his spine and made his body tremble.

"I thought you loved stewed prunes." Jack frowned as he removed the tray.

Murdock stood. He clutched the attendant's shoulder and whispered in his ear. "I do, but I've lost my appetite." He went to the door, peered into the hallway beyond and scurried out.

Jack shook his head, wondering what new hallucination had brought on this behavior. Whatever caused it, Donna the on duty nurse would need to know so she could be more alert to his condition. Murdock might be slipping into the next cycle of his mental illness. Jack made a mental note to tell her as soon as he could get the other attendant to watch the day room patients for a few minutes.


	3. Chapter 3 Concerning Friendship

Disclaimer: I do not own the television show or the movie The A Team or any of the characters.

Chapter 3 The Sucker Punch Never Came

Concerning Friendship

His meeting with Murdock nagging at a corner of his mind, Face parked his red and white Corvette in front of the beach house and sat for a few minutes. He closed his eyes and rested his head on folded hands on the steering wheel. His friend's behavior had been haunting him ever since they parted.

This wasn't like the times Murdock was convinced he was Captain Cab, the Range Rider or any of the other crazy characters he personified during missions. He wasn't petting his invisible dog Billy. He wasn't confiding in sock puppets or Therm, the lobster claw hidden in his shirt sleeve.

Those were light-hearted coping mechanisms. Sure, they drove B. A. to the point of wishing bodily harm upon Murdock. The pilot always seemed able to turn off the crazy like a light switch before that strike point was crossed. This type of crazy had _not_ turned off.

This was a dark side of his friend Face had not seen for a few years. Not since those first gut-wrenching months after Murdock was returned to the States and transferred to the hospital. Those were the nights when Face sneaked into the hospital room to hold his friend through his sweat-drenched, horrifying nightmares. To encourage him to talk instead of shrink inside himself, to help him to not _think about it_ so much.

The times when the need to rescue Murdock from his inner demons outweighed the risk of capture.

This was a side he had hoped was permanently healed. Or, at least, buried so deep it could not claw its way to the surface.

Before he realized what he was doing, Face stormed into the beach house and dialed.

He drummed his fingers on the kitchen countertop while the phone rang on the other end. "Come on, Hannibal. Pick it up." Three rings and then . . .

"Yeah, kid. What's up?"

Face took a deep breath. "Something's wrong with Murdock. I don't know what, but something's not right."

"Explain yourself, Lieutenant. What did you observe?"

Face tried to recall the conversation. "For one thing, he seemed terrified that someone was watching him. He didn't say so but he sure acted like it. He even brushed it off as a nightmare he may not have been able to forget. But he was _definitely_ afraid."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Face could sense Hannibal chewing on the end of his cigar and pondering the answer. Finally, "Okay. What else?"

"He made me wait for quite a while. He said he needed to be sure someone was with his shrink before he could come. Must have been another patient."

"Had he mentioned anyone new on his ward the last couple of times you visited?"

"No."

"Did you notice anyone watching or anything suspicious?"

"No." Even as he said it, Face remembered the movement he thought he heard outside the perimeter of the grove of trees and Murdock's reaction to it.

At the time, because nothing else happened he thought little more about it. He chalked his own reaction up to nerves transferred from Murdock to himself. And he had seen nothing to cause alarm. All of them knew instinctively from their years of hiding from the military police when someone was watching. _What if . . .?_ Maybe he _had_ missed something.

"Well, then . . ."

Face knew the Colonel was not convinced. "Hannibal. I just know something's not right. You remember how he was when I first found him at the hospital? I think we're losing him to that again."

Another pause, longer than the last. When the response came, Face could feel the Colonel's concern like an electrical charge coursing through the telephone connection.

"Tell you what, kid. Get B. A. to work his magic and create a power outage tonight. Spring Murdock. Bring him around to the youth center. B. A.'s got a key."

"Then what?"

"Then we find out what's going on."

Face wondered if they would be able to handle "what's going on" if his fears were confirmed.


	4. Chapter 4 Fear's Face

The Sucker Punch Never Came

Chapter 4 Fear's Face

When Murdock hurried from the day room, he knew Jack would have to report his erratic behavior. If he was a staffer at this loony bin and one of the patients started playing hidey seek with a phantom, he would do the same thing.

As he walked past the nurses' station, Donna asked him something but he didn't hear her. His ears were tuned in to the smaller sounds around him. An attendant's squeaky shoe, a gurney being wheeled by, the elevator at the end of the hall with its bell that dinged as it settled to a stop on his floor. Those were the sounds that would warn him before an attack.

He was beginning to wonder if he was having a relapse. He thought he saw the patient who was stalking him everywhere he went.

Well, almost everywhere. His room was a safe haven so far.

Face had not seen him. Jack wasn't paying attention. If he had been, would he have seen him?

Murdock slowed his pace as he neared his door. The hairs on the back of his neck were prickling as if picking up on some electric current emanating from his room. He felt rather than saw Donna's concerned gaze as Jack spoke to her in a low voice.

He puckered his lips to whistle "Shall We Dance?" so he could appear nonchalant about his retreat to his sanctuary. Set Jack and Donna's minds at rest about his behavior. Act as normal as he possibly could.

For a crazy man.

He couldn't help squeezing up close to peer in the observation window before opening the door. In his mind, he knew that was another strange mannerism for the report but he had to remain cautious, alert. Everything appeared to be in order: his basketball hoop, his arcade games, his bed . . .

He heard it then. A rustling sound so low it could have been a breeze moving curtains. Except there were no curtains at the closed window, one more of the cautions the psychiatric hospital took to ensure its patients' safety. Or was he imagining the sound?

He stepped back two paces, staring at the observation window, watching for a shadow or flicker of movement. Fear rose up within him and constricted his lungs. His heart was beating as hard and fast as a jackhammer on pavement. Glancing toward Donna at her station, he could see her frown at his actions and stand up.

If someone's in there, she's gonna get hurt. Can't let no one else get hurt 'cause of me. Least of all Donna.

He began to hum "Paint It Black." The Stones always gave him some stability before. Probably not the best choice of lyrics but what could you expect?

He looked again at Donna, wondering if he was being convincing enough. She hesitated as she heard his humming and then sat back down.

He waved and smiled, pointed one finger at her as if to remind her of their imaginary date, then braced himself and reached for the doorknob. Murdock entered the room and shut the door behind him.

He didn't see the mop handle or who wielded it. All he knew was it whistled through the air, smacked his left hand and repeated the blow across his back as he sunk to the floor with the pain.

Don't let him see you hurt. Don't give him more of an edge.

"So fear has a face after all," Murdock muttered through gritted teeth. "Well, buddy boy, I've had worse from the Cong. You don't hold a candle."

Then a moment of reason told him his opponent had the advantage. Better shut up. Rolling into a ball, he tucked his knees up, protecting his internal organs. He would have glanced up to get a good look at his uninvited guest if he didn't suspect his nose would get broken or his teeth would get busted in. Three or four more solid blows across the back and the intruder seemed satisfied.

"I'm watching you, Murdock," the voice hissed. "Remember that." He heard the window slide up and felt the breeze stream into his room. The phantom was gone but he left a reminder of his presence.


	5. Chapter 5 Temporary Refuge

The Sucker Punch Never Came

Chapter 5 Temporary Refuge

Murdock groaned, shifted position and woke in pain. Night time was an ordeal to be endured with nerves of steel ever since Viet Nam but now it was worse. His lunchtime intruder could choose any time to pay another visit, likely when he least expected it.

Straining to hear the slightest sound, he stared into the darkness toward the window. He had not meant to sleep so soundly. The trip alarm was useless now that his stalker knew about it. He had to rely upon his senses, and his senses told him something more than his aching back had awakened him.

A tap on the window, hands motioning for him to open it. Another second and Face appeared, trying to get Murdock's attention. The pilot almost wept with relief.

"Time to go. Get your jacket and cap." Murdock nodded and obeyed as quickly as his bruised frame would allow. He glanced toward the door to his room. He noticed the lights in the hall were off. There was the sound of the night crew making sure patients were settled in and unaware of the outage.

He thought he glimpsed a shadow cross in front of the observation window. Couldn't be certain of who it was. He put the dummy form under the bed blanket, amazed the "fake Murdock" still fooled the staff during short night ventures away from the hospital. He hastened his steps.

"Coming, Faceman, coming," he whispered. Scaling the rain gutter was tricky when he was in excellent condition. It was worse after this afternoon's beating. He slipped on the last four feet of gutter and landed on his back on the dewy grass. Another groan escaped his mouth before he could prevent it.

"Murdock, you alright?" Face was wide-eyed, breathing hard, knowing that only minutes remained before the lights would go on.

The pilot winced as he rolled to his side. He clenched his teeth and grated out the words. "Faceman, you gotta help me, man. Hurt myself."

Face gripped his friend by his jacket and hauled him to his knees. Bending down and grasping Murdock around his waist, Face half-carried him to the open van door. He heard the soft groans his friend tried to hide as he lifted him up into the seat.

"Gonna be okay now. Gonna be okay, man. B. A., get me outta here. Get me outta here, man." Murdock grasped at the driver's shoulder, panic dictating his movements.

The lights turned on just as the van pulled out onto the street. For several minutes, no one spoke. Murdock collapsed back into the seat and closed his eyes. Face thought he could see two tears trickle down his friend's cheeks. And then Murdock began to laugh, softly at first, then louder. Just as suddenly the laughter changed to shuddering choked sobs.

B. A. frowned in the rear view mirror and glanced at Face. He tensed at the unexpected emotions coming from the back seat but didn't know what to say. "Crazy fool" was not appropriate but seemed to be what he was witnessing.

Hannibal removed the cigar from his mouth and focused on Murdock. He put his gloved hand on the younger man's knee and kept it there until the trembling stopped. "You're safe now, Murdock. Safe. Do you understand me?"

"Safe. Safe, safe . . ." Murdock repeated the words over and over, softer with each breath until he fell asleep cushioned against Face's shoulder.

All of them lost in their own thoughts about what they had just seen, the three men remained silent until the van pulled up in the alleyway behind the youth center where B. A. worked.

"Okay, B. A., get the door unlocked and some light on. Not many. We don't need to attract unnecessary attention before we know what we're dealing with. Face." Hannibal turned to his lieutenant. "Guard the perimeter. Anything moves, give us a heads-up."

Face paused and looked at the sleeping Murdock. Hannibal nodded and and stuck his cigar back in his mouth. "He'll be okay, kid. I'll send B. A. to relieve you in a half hour. Now go, and don't worry."

When B. A. returned to the van, he gently lifted Murdock from the seat like he was a slumbering child. The pilot moaned. His left arm with its swollen bruised hand dangled limply. The Colonel spotted the bruising and grimaced.

"Looks like our Captain's been worked over. I don't imagine he got that from shooting baskets in his room. Which means . . ."

"Which means," B. A. finished, "he ain't so crazy after all, leastways when it comes to thinkin' someone's got it out for him."

The sergeant carried Murdock through the door and laid him on a couch in a corner of the multi-purpose gym and game room.

"My Mama crocheted this afghan and sent it from Chicago for the center," B. A. growled as he removed it from the back of the couch and spread it over the sleeping man. "Whoever hurt that fool's going to have to answer to me, Hannibal!" He glared directly into the Colonel's eyes as if daring him to say no.

"We need to get the story first and find out what's going on. If it's another patient, Murdock may have to deal with him by himself." Hannibal's gaze softened as he looked down at him. "But we can give him advice and a safe haven when he needs to get away."

B. A. knelt by the couch and tucked the afghan closer to his comrade's throat. The Colonel's eyes became a flinty steel blue. "We can give him that much at least."


	6. Chapter 6 Truth Be Known

The Sucker Punch Never Came

Chapter Six Truth Be Known

The predawn gray was beginning to seep into the youth center room. Hannibal came in from his perimeter watch and shook a sleeping Face's shoulder. Face stretched and yawned in the armchair where he had dozed off.

He glanced over at the couch where Murdock still lay sleeping and mouthed a question to Hannibal. _Should I wake him? _

The Colonel thought for a moment before shaking his head no. "Let him sleep for now. He's been through a hell of some kind and he'll have to return to it in an hour or so."

Face started to protest, raised his hand to object, worry and anger mingled in his countenance.

Hannibal regarded him coldly for a second. "Lieutenant, it'll be worse for him if we don't get him back in time before rounds. You know that. You might have to scam him out of there with a two or three day pass in a couple of days. But for now, we need to know what's going on. Who knows if this person is trying to get to us through him?"

The younger man drew in a breath to give voice to his concern, then thought better of it. Of course, Hannibal was right.

The Colonel was pondering something, working the cigar in his mouth as he thought. "I wonder how much Murdock actually knows about this person who's singled him out. Face, you may have to gain access to some files. I can't ask him to do it. Too dangerous for him."

"But not for me?" Face chided.

"You have charms that Murdock is only beginning to learn, kid. You've been a good teacher but he can't pull a file shuffle in the position he's in. Whoever this is might try to kill him to prevent him from finding out anything more. This scumbag wants to use the unknown to break him."

"But why?"

Both men turned toward the sound of whimpering from the couch. Murdock stirred. An agonized expression broke out on his face and he gasped for breath before his eyelids fluttered and opened.

"Good morning, Captain." Hannibal flicked an ash from his cigar and brought a folding chair over to the couch. Sitting down, he asked, "How'd you sleep?"

The pilot smiled weakly. "Better than I have for a while." He buried his left hand in his jacket pocket and tried to sit up. Grimacing, he muttered, "Man, am I stiff. You'd better tell B. A. this couch is like a bed of nails."

Face and Hannibal exchanged glances. They knew it wasn't the couch causing so much pain but the Colonel decided he would let Murdock lead that part of the conversation.

"You have a mission for us, Colonel?" Murdock seemed more eager than he ever had been to be part of whatever the team was involved with.

_Maybe a little too eager, _ the Colonel thought.

"Yeah," Hannibal lied. "Yeah, but it will require you to go back to the hospital this morning and keep your senses tuned to anything strange going on."

Murdock flashed Face a nervous look. To anyone else, the pilot would seem to be fairly well composed but Face and Hannibal noticed the small clicking swallow and slight tremor of his suddenly tightened muscles.

"Nothin' strange's been goin' on there for weeks. Who's the client? A former patient?" Murdock seemed unable to meet their eyes. He started to slowly clench and unclench his right hand.

The Colonel decided to press the issue. "To tell the truth, we can't let you know who the client is. It might compromise your mission, Captain. Look, the last time you met with Face, he picked up on some creep hovering just outside the hospital doors. Kept looking toward you guys. Right, Face?"

Face took over the lie. "Yeah. I didn't want to make you jumpy or anything, knowing the client and what he wants us to do. You're good at figuring out if something's not right. When I saw that guy, I told Hannibal we needed you to be our inside man gathering information. We honestly didn't know for sure he was even there like the client said."

Murdock's gaze took in Face's expression. His eyes narrowed. "I've been around you too long to not know when you're conning me, Faceman. Why're you guys conning me? Colonel? Faceman?"

Hannibal avoided the question. "We have to get you back pretty soon, Captain. You know when they start the morning bed check. An unexplained absence would put you in a lock-down where we can't communicate with you."

"Might happen anyway," Murdock muttered. "I did some things yesterday that put me on the ward watch list."

B. A. stalked in and grumbled a morning greeting. "Gotta get going, Hannibal. Get this crazy fool back home. Kids'll be showin' up soon. You get outta him yet what's buggin' him?"

Murdock's eyes blazed and he propelled himself off the couch. A sharp sucking breath indicated how much pain that quick movement inflicted.

He stuffed both hands in jacket pockets and walked over to the opposite side of the room. With his back turned to them, they could detect his anger only in the calm chilling words he said next.

"So that's what this is all about. Well, here's the story, guys. I can't go back. I _won't _ go back. _You can't make me._"


	7. Chapter 7 Reality Check

The Sucker Punch Never Came

Chapter 7 Reality Check

Murdock was seething with feelings of betrayal and would not turn to look at his friends. Face was angry, too.

"You wait right there, buddy, and hear me out. Okay, we were conning you. We had to. Yesterday you were jumping out of your skin at every sound and acting like you were standing point deep across the DMZ. Explain to me what _that_ was all about." Face's last sentence had some effect.

Murdock stared down at the floor in front of him and scuffed at the wall with the toe of his sneaker.

"Captain, you owe us an answer. We're not going to lose you to the nightmares and paranoia again. Come clean." Hannibal had moved to a position about two feet away from the pilot. His voice was hard and commanding and meant to pierce through the emotional armor Murdock had erected around himself.

"Murdock, man, you was flippin' out last night in the van. Didn't know if you was gonna go stark ravin' on us or not. Nearly ripped my shoulder off to get outta there." B. A. scowled at the memory but his words betrayed the fear and concern he felt the night before. He came closer and laid one bejeweled hand on the Captain's shoulder.

Murdock flinched and spun around and away, pushing his back into the wall behind him. He had removed both fists from his pockets and now held them defensively in front of his face. From between them, his eyes glared wildly at first Hannibal, then B. A. and finally Face. The left hand was trembling from the effort of keeping it fisted. He crouched, ready to punch the first one to touch him again.

"I'm . . . not . . . going . . . back!" His voice was rasping and desperate.

"Hannibal, he's flippin' out again!" and B. A. backed away.

The Colonel put up one hand and removed a fresh cigar from his jacket pocket. He deliberately struck the match against the wall a few feet away from him and lit the tip. Seeing the familiar actions had a calming effect on Murdock. His fists were still up but his defensive pose was not quite as tense as it was moments before.

Hannibal pointed his lit cigar at the pilot's hand. The bruises were black in the dim light. "Who was the goon that did that to you, Captain?"

"I . . . can't . . . go . . .baack!" The last word was a pleading wail and Murdock bent his knees, sliding his back against the wall to sit on the floor.

"Is he a patient? Or a staff member?" Hannibal continued to prod. With each question he came closer until he sat down on the floor beside the frightened man. B. A. and Face stood frozen where they were, watching the Colonel ease the truth from him as gently as possible.

"Patient," Murdock whispered. He buried his face in his arms now folded on top of his knees.

"Where and how did he get to you?"

"In my room . . . waiting . . . through the window."

"How bad?"

Murdock lifted his head. His eyes were anguished but he held out his spasming left hand and then knelt with his face to the wall and lifted his jacket and shirt. Five black stripe-like bruises crisscrossed his spine.

Face stifled a startled gasp. B. A. muttered something incomprehensible but threatening.

"Okay, Captain. It's okay." Hannibal covered Murdock's back and sat against the wall again. "Now we know. It's better there's no secrets. But why you?"

Murdock had turned and sat with his legs straight out in front of him. He cradled his left hand in his right. His head shook back and forth as he started rambling, "I don't know, I don't know. One day I looked at him during group therapy. He was boring holes through me with those angry mudsuckin' eyes of his. Dr. Richter didn't notice. Then I started seein' him 'bout everywhere I went. He didn't threaten me in words. He didn't have to. Those eyes were enough. But he sneaked around so much I never knew when or where I'd see him. I thought I was goin' dinky dau . . . you know . . . crazy. Like it was all a build-up for a visit to the padded room. I couldn't be sure."

"And then he waylaid you yesterday?"

A whispered "yes."

"Well, those bruises weren't made by your imagination. He's real." Face would not finish the worried thought gnawing at him. _But we may be losing you to your mind after all. _

Hannibal thought for a moment. "You said you were on the ward watch list. Can you act just crazy enough to keep the staff's attention on you until we can find out who this slime ball is? It's possible he _is_ a mentally ill vet like everyone believes or he could be someone entirely different. Once we know that, we can figure out how to get him off your ward and out of your life."

Murdock took a few deep breaths and then nodded.

"You'll have to go back," Face warned. His eyes were filled with concern.

His friend glanced at him. He stood up on wobbly legs, braced himself against the wall. "I think I can do it now."


	8. Chapter 8 There's Something in a Name

The Sucker Punch Never Came

Chapter Eight There's Something in a Name

"Alright, Captain. You know what to do. Observe that slime as much as you can without becoming his punching bag. We want to know his schedule, everything about him you can get. Face will shuffle the files on our end." Hannibal swiveled in the front seat of the van to get a good look at Murdock. The pilot was pale, almost hyperventilating with his terror of confronting his enemies, both physical and mental.

"We need a name. Something we can start running with."

Murdock's forehead wrinkled with concentration. He glanced wildly around the van and finally clutched at his head in frustration.

"His first name is . . . is . . . ah, Colonel! I know I heard it in therapy but . . . " and the pilot clenched his teeth and punched his bruised hand into the back of B. A.'s seat.

A strange method, but Murdock knew pain sometimes brought back memories of things he would rather forget. His Viet Cong captors had taught him that years ago. He repeated the action, viciously this time, ignoring the shock on the faces of the others. He would have done it several times more if Hannibal hadn't reached over, caught and held his arm, not understanding. But he finally remembered the name.

"He calls himself Jag, but I think I heard one of the guys call him Jerry. His last name . . . let me think."

"Take your time, Murdock. Just don't hurt yourself. We can try to find out another way." Hannibal gave Face a worried glance. Their pilot appeared to be coming unglued again.

Taking several slow deep breaths, closing his eyes, Murdock tried to relax and place himself in one of the therapy sessions. "I think Dr. Richter called him Mr. Connors at one point." He opened his eyes, his mind and thoughts still in the session. "Yeah. Affirmative. He started shouting and Dr. Richter said 'Mr. Connors' and reminded him about the group rules." He looked at Hannibal, seeking approval. "How'd I do, Colonel?"

Hannibal smiled. "That's enough for now. Now, when you go back in there, remember: you'll do fine as long as you keep a staff member within shouting distance. Plan your moves well. Act a little crazy around one of the staff if he starts getting too close."

Murdock nodded and wiped his sweating palms on his pants legs. "Yeah, yeah, I can do crazy. I know crazy."

"As soon as we get to his records, we'll know what spins his propeller. Maybe we can get him transferred to a hospital for the criminally insane." The Colonel didn't say the transfer might require Murdock to allow the sleaze to almost kill him. The pilot could relapse if he thought that last sentence through to its natural conclusion. No, better he not elaborate on what he said.

Hannibal took Murdock's right hand and shook it, dismissing him.

Face stepped down from the van to let Murdock out. He clapped his friend on the shoulder and did not resist when he was wrapped in a shuddering embrace in return. No need for words.

B. A. leaned from the driver's seat across Hannibal and threatened, "You keep your senses, fool. Don't let him get the edge. The only one who gets to cream you is me." Murdock was surprised to see the man wink and give him a solemn thumbs up.

"Sun's coming up. We need to get rolling." The Colonel was getting impatient.

Murdock jogged across the lawn as the van nosed onto the street. He began the difficult climb up the rain gutter. With the stiffness in his back and left hand, he hurt with each foot gained.

Finally reaching the windowsill, he clung to it for seconds, catching his breath. He lifted his head just above the sill to scan his room. All was as he had left it. They had not yet come to check on him. Neither had Jag, for that matter, and that was good.

The "fake Murdock" was still "sleeping" in his bed. He nudged the window up until he could squeeze his body through the gap. He was home but it no longer felt like a sanctuary from reality.


	9. Chapter 9 Sock Puppet

The Sucker Punch Never Came

Chapter 9 Sock Puppet

"Think he'll be okay, Hannibal?" B. A. parked the van beside the Corvette at the beach house.

The Colonel hesitated before answering. "I don't know." He stared out at the white-capped ocean waves and smoked his cigar in silence. "He'll follow orders."

"What do you want me to do?" Face asked.

"You'll have to get into the patient files and look up our friend Jerry Connors."

"And how do you suggest I do _that_? It's not like I have access from here."

"Well, you'll have to go to the hospital and _gain_ access."

Face groaned. "Why did I know you were going to say that? You know that requires me to get into Dr. Richter's office, don't you?"

"If I didn't think you were capable, I wouldn't tell you to do it. Get on it, Lieutenant. Murdock might not be able to hold out for long against this goon."

Face stared for a moment at Hannibal, then left the van to don the white lab coat he kept handy for springing Murdock. Moments later, he was driving the red and white Corvette back to the hospital, hoping Dr. Richter was out of the office when he arrived.

While Face was hurrying to accomplish his mission, Murdock was searching his dresser drawer. He knew he still had the sock puppet he had used when the team helped the Lone Star Taxi Company a few years ago.

He had two alter egos during that adventure; well, three if you counted Socky, the dog. Captain Cab and Dr. Vern the veterinarian were his coping mechanisms that time. Drove B. A. up the wall with them. Face even made a disparaging comment when Captain Cab introduced himself.

He did not want Donna, Jack or any of the other staff members to ask questions about his injured hand. The answers would put others in danger. The best way to avoid the questions was to cover the bruises. Besides, the puppet might be useful if Jag should try anything.

He had been on guard watching for his stalker for so many days that he hadn't realized how much he needed the short respite away from the hospital. Thinking about it, remembering some but not all of the details of the previous twenty four hours, he realized how close he had been to full-blown insanity.

He was that close to stepping into a waking world flashback of steaming jungle floor, Charlie behind every bush and sudden splatters of gunfire. A never-ending flashback that would end with him in restraints, screaming his nightmarish agonies into the air.

His current assignment sucked but it was part of the mission. The Colonel seemed to have faith in his ability to follow through. Murdock wished he had that kind of faith. At least he was thinking clearer again.

After slipping the sock on his hand and pulling the long sleeve of his flannel shirt over it, Murdock prepared himself mentally to leave his room. It would be so easy to be safe and play his arcade games until his next session with Dr. Richter. After all, he was known to stay mostly to himself.

But the Colonel was depending on him. He slipped to the observation window of the door and scanned the hallway. A uniformed MP was flirting with Donna at her station. From the look on her face, she was unimpressed.

Murdock frowned. _An MP? _

Turning his gaze up the hallway, he froze when he recognized Colonel Decker disappearing into a patient's room four doors away.

_What the heck?_

Murdock opened the door and stepped out. He began muttering to his sock puppet and holding it to his ear, pretending it was talking back to him. Seeing Donna watching him, he grinned at her and waved with his covered hand. He held his pointer finger up to the puppet and scolded it, shaking his head as he strolled casually toward the room Decker had disappeared into.

"Your assignment was to make him nervous, not to beat him. Oh yes, I _saw_ your last report. Those _weren't_ my orders." Decker's voice grated from within the room.

Another voice, one which had hissed at him less than a day ago answered the Colonel. "You _wanted_ me for this job. You _did_ happen to read my file, didn't you?" A pause. "I can see you did. Then you know why I did what I did."

"You will follow my orders, Captain Connors. Maybe, just maybe, I can pull some favors to get you out of here and back in action. You are to terrorize him until he contacts the A Team."

"How do you know he hasn't already?" Connors demanded.

"I don't. Keep the pressure on him and he'll contact them. Call me if he does. You know how. They won't stay away if they think Murdock is in mortal danger."

"Colonel Decker, pressure is the one thing I _know_ how to dish out."

The listening pilot held his breath and slipped quietly back down the hall. He put his right hand in Socky's "mouth" and pretended to be wrestling to get his fingers back. Before disappearing into his room, he blew Donna a kiss.

Once inside, his door shut, he propped himself against the wall, sweat beginning to prickle along his back and forehead.

_I gotta warn the guys. But how?_


	10. Chapter 10 A Little Vitamin H

The Sucker Punch Never Came

Chapter 10 A Little Vitamin H

Murdock needed a plan and needed it quickly before his friends came calling again. He had no doubt that one of the team, either Face or maybe Hannibal himself would be back within hours to gain access to the files on Connors.

_The pay phones! _ In previous escapes when time was at a premium, he sprinted past phone booths to a waiting car, attendants chasing him. He knew exactly where the phones were located.

While Decker and Connors were busy, he had to figure an excuse to be allowed to stroll the grounds unescorted. He wondered how concerned Donna was about his latest charade. If he tried to leave, would she sound the alarm? He had to chance it.

Slipping on his jacket and checking the pockets for a quarter, he focused on his strategy and opened the door.

Decker was still in the room with Connors and the MP was reasserting his charms on the lovely Donna. Murdock allowed his right arm to extend fully in front of him as if he were struggling with a disobedient leashed dog out for a walk.

"Billy! Heel!" With his right hand, Murdock moved Socky's "mouth" and made yipping sounds as he approached the desk. He noted with wry amusement the open-mouthed confusion on the MP's face.

"Mornin', Miss Donna. Socky and Billy need their walk. Socky, be quiet! Billy! Heel!" He moved his gaze from the sock puppet to a spot very near the youthful MP's leg. "Watch out! Billy! Not here! Sir, you'd better move your leg."

"Captain Murdock, maybe you'd better wait until I get someone to go with you." Donna scrambled to get the desk phone between her jaw and shoulder, all the time regarding the pilot's increasingly agitated antics.

Murdock pasted a horrified expression on his face and chided her. "Now, really! Do you want to have to clean up Billy and Socky's messes? Well, _do_ ya? 'Cause I'm tellin' you now, _I'm_ not doin' it!"

With that, he "allowed" Billy to jerk him along the hallway to the elevator. The door opened almost immediately and he tumbled in as three white-coated attendants swept past him.

The door closed. Murdock fingered the quarter in his pocket, playing with it, urging the elevator to move faster. When the doors opened again, still in character, he pretended Billy was pulling him outside. He made yipping sounds, moving the sock puppet's mouth. It took a great deal of coordination and concentration.

Some visitors backed away from him and scurried inside the building. An old white-haired patient shuffled past with a walker and stared vacantly at him.

Then Murdock startled in disbelief toward the street as a red and white Corvette slowed to access the parking lot driveway.

_Faceman! _

His thoughts swirled. Decker, Connors and the MP upstairs were perhaps even now looking for him if they had any idea he was the one causing the commotion. The attendants Donna had summoned were likely in the elevator or storming the stairway in hot pursuit.

He did the only thing he could and ran toward the parked car, his friend just emerging from it. Snapping, snarling, growling, barking, he pushed Socky toward a startled Face.

They collided. Murdock pushed Face back down into the seat with their impact. At the same time, he hissed the warning, "Decker! Upstairs! Go!"

White-sleeved arms gripped him, pulling him away from the car and backwards toward a waiting gurney. He kept in character, biting and growling at the orderlies like a dog would.

_Man, these guys were fast gettin' down here. _

He struggled until he saw the Corvette swing out of the parking lot, then went limp and allowed the attendants to strap him down.

"A little Vitamin H here! Hurry!" Murdock tensed as the attendant rolled up his sleeve and administered the needle containing the haloperidol.

_The last thing I need is to be out of it. Must've been too convincing. _

It was his last thought before descending into semi-consciousness.


	11. Chapter 11 Change of Plans

The Sucker Punch Never Came

Chapter 11 Change of Plans

Face was flustered over the failed mission. He slammed the front door of the beach house as he passed through to the deck where his friends waited.

Hannibal and B. A. sensed there had been trouble. One look at Face's agitated movements told them the plan had not come together. He paced back and forth across the whitewashed wooden boards of the seaside deck as he worried over the welfare of his friend.

"First thing I know, Murdock flew at me with a sock on his hand, barking at me. If he hadn't given me the warning about Decker, I would've thought he'd snapped. I'm telling you, he was like a mad dog, Hannibal, nipping at everyone that tried to hold onto him. If he hadn't done it, though, I think my next meal would've been in a cell at Fort Bragg."

B. A. shook his head and scowled. "Murdock may act like a fool, but sounds like he saved your bacon doin' it."

Hannibal leaned back in the deck chair. "I have my suspicions about why Decker was at the hospital. He wasn't visiting Murdock. I'm sure about that. We all know what Decker's lifetime goal is. He was visiting someone else who might have an inside edge and I bet that someone was Jerry Connors."

B. A.'s expression grew more threatening as Hannibal's words registered. Face stopped his pacing and threw his hands up in the air.

"Well, forget about being able to get to those files now. I'm sure Decker realizes one of us had been there. One of those muscle-bound orderlies that strapped Murdock to that gurney probably gave Decker a description of me and my car." Face swiped his hand through his wind-blown hair in frustration.

"And now Murdock prob'ly got hisself doped up and locked down. I sure hope that fool's alright and ain't havin' flashbacks." B. A. smacked one fist into the palm of his other hand. "What's your plan now, Hannibal?"

"As long as Murdock is locked down, I doubt Connors can get to him. When he comes out from under the drugs, he _will _ be in danger. Unless," and Hannibal smiled at Face, "someone keeps a very close eye on him and calls us when he's back to his room. Lieutenant, you said there's a nurse who seems inordinately sweet to our Captain."

"Yeah, I think her name is Donna. But honestly, Colonel, I think she fancied me over Murdock."

"Doesn't matter. You're going to go in and tell her you're Murdock's second cousin and that you want to see him. Simple."

"Hannibal, she'll never fall for that! She might recognize me from the last time we had a client and I sprung him." The Colonel smiled and crossed his arms at Face's excuses. "Besides, if he's locked away, they won't let me see him anyway."

"Lieutenant, I have never doubted your abilities to charm a lady into whatever you ask her to do. You're going to give her the number to the youth center phone and tell her to call when Murdock is brought back to his room. We have to talk to him, find out if he has anything more we can use to get Connors locked away for life. Make her melt in your hands, kid. Who knows? If she likes you, she might be able to sneak you in to see him for a few minutes. Just watch out for Decker. He may not be there while Murdock is in lock-down, but then again he might."

The Colonel glanced out over the beach, thinking. "I still wonder why Connors beat our Captain up. That sort of thing isn't Decker's style. There has to be a connection between Connors and Murdock besides the hospital and Decker's trap for us. But what is it?"

_And can we use it to our and Murdock's advantage?_ Hannibal questioned.


	12. Chapter 12 Purple Wobbly Recollection

The Sucker Punch Never Came

Chapter 12 Purple Wobbly Recollections

Warning: Viet Nam flashback, not a nice one

Moments after the haloperidol was injected, Murdock became woozy. The orderlies no longer wore white but loomed over him as monsters in purple. The sky was dancing shades of purple, too.

He felt wheels moving underneath him. A flashing glimpse of a door frame above him and he was back in the hospital lobby.

Ding! The elevator bell was a muffled distortion of itself. Voices around him sounded as if the speakers had stuffed their mouths with cotton.

"Caught him this time . . . weird stuff even from him . . . who was that guy . . . a little lock-down improves everything . . . flip him over . . . here, put these on him . . . hey, where'd he get these bruises . . ."

His jacket and regular clothes removed and taken away, he was dressed in scrubs. Lying stomach down, eyes closed, resigned to his fate. Leather straps, four of them, secured his arms and legs to the gurney. Another belt went over his waist and was snugged down.

_Standard procedure for someone who's more than a few chips shy of a full bag._

He opened his eyes, saw padded walls which seemed to be pulsating in the same color scheme as the orderlies' clothes and the sky.

_Hospital needs to find a different decorator. _

He was so tired he couldn't turn his head to the other side. He assumed those walls were a duplicate of what he already saw.

A door latched shut somewhere in the direction of his feet. Murdock closed his eyes.

_Been through this before. Nothin' to do but sleep or watch the walls melt. Sleep's better. Time goes quicker. _

His dreams at first were peaceful.

Gardens of flowers that changed color when he blinked at them. Billy running ahead of him across a field, chasing a pastel jackrabbit. Face and him sitting side by side on a dock, chatting and fishing, catching nine foot long catfish without effort. Walking on stage and singing Sinatra songs to a cheering audience of purple wobblies.

Walking off stage onto a sandy beach. One foot poised over a chasm. Soil crumbling underfoot, clawing to stay on land, then falling . . .

_A rhythmic thump, thump overhead. His left hand loosely gripping the collective at his side, his right hand resting on the cyclic. Feels good to be flying. Below, small patches of jungle, blaze orange with sporadic fires. Smoke rises and he spears the clouds with the chopper's nose. _

_Looking below. Small villages of thatched huts. One or two women carrying pails on poles across their shoulders. All seems so normal._

_He turns his head to catch the eye of his gunner. No one is there. Odd. Does this bird have a full crew or not? His stomach turns queasy. Something's not right._

_He stares through haze at the jungle canopy, spies a small clearing. Identifies four figures and a huddling group of ten to fifteen women and children, wonders what's going on. Dressed in Army green, the four Americans raise their weapons to their shoulders, seem to point toward the group. _

_He yells "No!" but isn't heard. Women and kids fall to the ground, writhe, are still. A woman drops to her knees, a bundle of cloth tumbling from her arms. Shots jolt the bundle once, twice. Plumes of smoke rise from barrels. He knows there are screams but he is too far away. _

_He lowers the chopper, wants to know who and why. Not curiosity but horror at what he's witnessed. So low he can make out the sightless eyes of the victims and blood staining the grass. The four soldiers look up. One points, raises his weapon to shoot. The chopper lifts up, up, spinning, evasive action. His mind tries to block the images of the innocent dead. But he remembers the angry face. Doesn't know the guy from Adam but will remember the face for the rest of his tour._

_Purple plumes rise from the jungle floor and envelop the chopper and its solo pilot. The purple wobblies remove the scene from his view. _

_On the ground now, in Saigon. The face he remembers turns toward him from across a smoky barroom. Eyes that burn through him with their hatred. Running through the door, to the street, into an alley. Too late. Grabbed by a couple of thugs dressed in olive drab, punched and tossed on the ground like an old orange peel. A kick and pain explodes in his kneecap as he lies in the dirt and garbage. His identification scatters around him._

"_Captain H. M. Murdock, huh? So you have a name. Well, you'll never tell." A familiar hissing voice. Where did he hear it last? A kick to the belly. A shout from a distance, running feet. Purple wobblies fill his mind and the alley, threaten to smother all of his memory. Best to forget. Hope he'll forget, too. Knows he hasn't. Knows he won't until . . ._

Murdock's eyes snapped open. He gulped air and tried not to scream his terror. He had to be quiet, show he was lucid and semi-rational again.

Now he realized with alarm the flashback dream memory wasn't a figment of his imagination. The puzzle came together in his slowly clearing brain and the assembled picture was menacing. His unit must know about Decker and Connors. He could not allow them to walk into a trap.

_They gotta be warned. Even if I gotta give my life to save theirs. _


	13. Chapter 13 Putting On the Charm

The Sucker Punch Never Came

Chapter 13 Putting on the Charm

Face left the elevator and pushed the eyeglasses up the bridge of his nose. Adjusting his tie, making sure his suit jacket draped him properly, he scrutinized Donna, the purpose for his visit.

_Hmmm . . . nice. Maybe this won't be so bad after all. _

He sauntered toward the nurses' station, his conman smile getting bigger and more dazzling with each step. He leaned over the desk and sought eye contact. As Face waited, he noticed the file she had before her had the name "Connors, Jerry" on the tab.

"May I help you?" She smiled sweetly and gave him her full attention.

_This may be easier than I thought. _

"Hi. I'm Howard Morton and I'm looking for H. M. Murdock. My mother said she thinks he's a patient here?" Face beamed at the girl and was pleased to note the pink blush begin to tickle her throat and spread to her cheeks. The smile left her face and was replaced by a look of sadness.

"Captain Murdock is unable to see visitors right now. I'm not sure when he will be back on the ward. Maybe sometime later today. We didn't think he had any living family." Her brow wrinkled with suspicion. She rose to her feet.

"Oh, I'm his second cousin. He wouldn't have mentioned me at all. Our family's strange that way. You said he isn't here right now? Oh, I hope nothing's wrong!" He pasted a look of surprise and concern on his face and was relieved when she seemed to want to confide in him. She came out from behind the desk and touched his elbow.

"To tell you the truth," she murmured softly, "I'm very worried about him. He hasn't been sleeping well and he's been more agitated lately. Today he tried to bite a visitor."

Face allowed his eyes to register the shock he did not feel. "If he has tendencies toward violence, maybe Mom _shouldn't_ be brought down here to see him. See, she wants to get the family back together. Dying wishes and all, you know. I told her it might not work out. She's in her 90s and I'm sure I can find a way to divert her attention from this idea of hers. But it might be therapeutic for him and it _would_ fulfill one of her last wishes."

He replaced the shocked look with wistful resignation and a smile that matched it. The nurse thought for a moment, then took him by the arm and led him further down the hallway.

When she spoke, her voice was low. "I can't get you in to see Mr. Murdock where he is right now. They have to determine his behavior has stabilized before he will be sent back up here. But I can keep you informed when that happens. Do you have a phone number where you can be reached?"

"That would be very nice . . ." he looked at her name badge, "Donna. I can call you that, can't I? I mean, both of us want to see my second cousin restored to health and my mother happy, don't we?"

_Come on, sweetheart, take the bait. I can see you care. _

Donna nodded and smiled back. They walked to the desk and Face jotted the youth center phone number on a piece of paper on top of the Connors file. As Donna glanced at the number and slipped the paper in her pocket, they heard the elevator bell ding and the door slide open.

An orderly backed a wheelchair out into the hallway. The patient was engaged in a one-sided argument with the impassive young man about the merits of an NFL big name quarterback. His voice grew louder and Donna walked quickly down the hall to calm the patient.

_Yes, indeed. This was way too easy. _

Face tucked the entire file under his suit jacket and buttoned it up. He strolled toward the trio in the hallway. As he said a short good bye to the nurse and tried to get her personal phone number, a patient left the day room at the end of the hall. He stood staring at Face before slouching toward Murdock's empty room.

If he had not been so intent on making a lasting impression on the nurse, Face might have seen the malicious glare. None of them noticed the patient silently duck into the pilot's room and emerge again seconds later. The patient crept to his own room four doors away with his trophy, Murdock's prized bomber jacket.


	14. Chapter 14 Sweet Release

The Sucker Punch Never Came

Chapter 14 Sweet Release

_Come on, come on! What do I have to do to convince ya'll I'm okay now? Recite the Gettysburg Address?_

The nurses allowed the orderlies to remove the restraints a half hour ago. Marge, the head nurse who presided over the ward with the rubber room, interviewed a restrained Murdock and deemed him lucid.

Thankfully, his clear and calm answers to Marge's questions gained him a little more freedom. It was hell on earth being pinned down on your stomach when you were having a flashback. It was worse when your mind was clear and you had something urgent to do.

Murdock knew he shouldn't pace the room. Any sign of agitation and he could count on a longer stay. By now, the purple wobblies had faded away but the flashback dream hadn't.

_So that's who Jerry Connors is. Not just some mudsucker with anger management problems but a mudsucker with anger management problems AND the desire to see ol' Murdock take a permanent flight into eternity._

The padded room allowed him plenty of opportunity to rehash the newly surfaced memories in his mind. There were still gray areas of his dream he could not figure out.

_Why was I alone in the air? Where was my crew? Why didn't I report what I saw back at base camp? What about Jerry's buddies? Where are they? After all these years, am I really still a threat?_

To that last question, Murdock had to chuckle. He had buried the memory so deep it may never have seen the light of day again. But Connors had not known that. If Connors hadn't attacked him at Decker's bidding, Murdock might never have had the dream that restored that part of his memory. Now that he remembered, he became a threat.

The thought of himself as a threat was amusing.

_Me, a threat?_

Instinctively, Murdock realized he would probably have to confront Connors sooner or later. He did not want to fight to the death, but he knew Connors was planning on it. He had never been really good at fist fights. He was no B. A. He would defend himself and the guys but it was rarely his choice to fight first and ask questions later.

For a second, Murdock was tempted to turn on the crazy and earn a night in lock-down for it.

Connors could not reach him here. Decker either. But neither could his unit, the three guys he counted as family. The padded room was a lonely place. You could stay only so long before you . . . did what? Go nuts?

_Clever choice of words, Murdock._

Marge, with her hook nose and no-nonsense demeanor, was the only one currently who wielded the power to determine he was not an immediate danger to himself or others. His own shrink would examine his mental state tomorrow.

_That is, if I live that long._

He caught occasional glimpses of Marge or one of her cadre of nurses and orderlies at the observation window. He was tempted to wave whenever he saw them but thought better of it.

Sitting on the floor of the room, Murdock quoted to himself passages of Shakespeare, Scripture verses from childhood, songs popular with the men when they were in-country, anything to make the time go quicker and keep his brain alert. The key at the door startled him when the orderly came to finally let him out.

"Mr. Murdock? Come with me." The orderly made him sit in a wheelchair for his trip to his room. Their journey from one ward to another took only a few minutes but to Murdock, it seemed to last longer. As the elevator stopped at his floor, he steeled himself for confrontation.

Donna was at the nurses' station and she tentatively waved as he was wheeled to his room. As he waited for the orderly to open the door, he saw the nurse pick up the telephone. She dialed a number from a small piece of paper, gazing at him as she spoke. He groaned internally.

_Not sweet little Donna. Not that pretty angel. She wouldn't call Decker, would she? _His heart sank.

"In you go, Mr. Murdock," the orderly instructed. Murdock shuffled inside and the door closed behind him. Moments later he heard it being locked. He sighed when he realized he was still in a lock-down state. But at least he had his belongings with him.

He decided to remove the scrubs and get dressed. A clean pair of khaki pants, T-shirt, flannel shirt and socks had been laid out for him on his bed. His sneakers were neatly placed side by side under the bed. He smiled, knowing Donna may have been the one who did it.

But where was his jacket? There weren't that many places in the room for it to be.

The answer was on his dresser. A note on a day room napkin.

_Welcome back, Murdock. Won't be long now. Thanks for the jacket._


	15. Chapter 15 When Mother Came Calling

The Sucker Punch Never Came

Chapter 15 When Mother Came Calling

"Lieutenant, why did your scam have to include a Mrs. Morton?" Hannibal was definitely perturbed. For the last fifteen minutes he had been grousing from the closed door of the youth center bathroom. B. A. glanced at Face and smirked. It was the closest thing to a smile he had managed for several days.

_Funny how you never know how much you love a brother until he's in danger and you can't see a way to help, _Face thought, returning a smile.

"Hannibal, you _know _you look lovely in a dress. Remember when we helped B. A.'s mother with her apartment landlord and you posed as Murdock's mom? Even _she_ thought you were a natural. Right, B. A.?"

The door opened and the Colonel emerged, hitching up panty hose and chewing on a cigar. His gray wig was slightly askew. He adjusted it and glared at Face and B. A.

"Besides," Face added, trying to control his laughter, "B. A. wouldn't fit as my mother. Well, would he?"

B. A. snickered. "Man, Hannibal, blue's definitely your color."

The Colonel growled in response. "I'm only doing this for Murdock. Now, help me with my necklace and let's get on the road. We want to beat Decker to the hospital and find out how our Captain is doing."

On the way, Hannibal rehearsed the plan with Face and B. A. "Face, I don't care how you persuade her but you have to get your nurse friend to bring Murdock outside. You can slip the file back on the desk while she's getting him."

Face agreed. "After what I went through to get that file, it's too bad it didn't have very much useful information. Closest thing I can tell is that Murdock and Connors were in Saigon at the same time and Murdock had something to do with Connors getting arrested for assault."

"Not enough for a grudge to last this long." Hannibal said. "It has to be something else. We have to prime Murdock's memory." _And hope it doesn't make him crack. _

They pulled up to the hospital and Face removed a wheelchair from the back. "Here, Mother Morton, let me help you into your chariot."

"You just make sure you keep your eyes peeled for Decker when you spring Murdock. Now that he's back in his room, you know they'll expect us to show up." The Colonel settled himself into the wheelchair while Face arranged an afghan over his legs. Before wheeling Hannibal to the grove of trees, Face handed him his Smith and Wesson which the Colonel discreetly tucked under his lap robe.

B. A. drove the van to a side street within view of the meeting place. If something went wrong, Face and Hannibal would need to access it in a hurry.

Face strolled through the doors of the hospital and made his way to Murdock's floor. Donna smiled at him when she saw him coming toward her. "Where's Mrs. Morton?"

Face grimaced. "Oh, Mom hates hospitals. She insisted I see if H. M. could come outside for our visit. She's anxious to talk to him. I told her it might not be easy to do that, but you know how older people get." He shrugged.

Donna chewed on a fingernail as she thought. "We haven't received any _written _orders from anyone to keep Mr. Murdock in his room. I was supposed to keep his door locked but those were verbal instructions the orderly told me. The written orders should be here soon. He _has _been quiet and calm since he came back." She hesitated, then seemed to make a decision. "I suppose if I were to come with you and he were to be in a wheelchair it would be okay."

"Mom will be so thankful . . . and the air might do my second cousin some good." Face gave Donna his most charming smile as she left to get a wheelchair and ask another ward nurse to fill in for her.

As he slipped the file from his jacket and deposited it on the desk, a movement down the hallway caught his attention. A patient was watching, mumbling to himself but watching all the same. Face narrowed his eyes, then relaxed as the man opened a door four down from Murdock's and shambled in.

_Just another patient with too much time on his hands._


	16. Chapter 16 Missing in Action

The Sucker Punch Never Came

Chapter 16 Missing In Action

Fifteen minutes later, Donna backed out of Murdock's room, her face pale and worried. She scurried back to the desk, picked up the desk phone, tapped out a number and waited.

"Anything wrong?" Face got a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something was definitely happening. He reached over, took the phone from her and hung up. "What's wrong with Murdock?" His voice was rising, and he knew it.

"What do you think you're doing?" The nurse's eyes blazed. She spat the words at him. "He's gone. Out the window. I've got to call a lock-down on this ward, get the orderlies to look for him." Her eyes filled with tears. "Poor Captain Murdock. I should have been watching him even more than I was. He seemed so . . . content to be back. And I _was _going to try to have lunch with him in the day room."

Face raised his eyebrows.

Seeing his expression, the nurse blushed. "An imaginary date. He was Fred Astaire and I was Ginger. Oh, you wouldn't understand!"

"He would have left a note. He always does," Face mused. Donna stared at him and the conman realized he had slipped his cover.

_To hell with the cover. She cares. I can see that. I'll give her just enough information to get her to help us find him. But not the hospital way._

"Okay, I'll come clean. I'm an old war buddy and Murdock was my best friend in-country. I've been trying to find him for years. Over there, whenever one of us went AWOL for a couple hours we would leave a note so the other guy would know how long to cover for us. There must be a note."

As his words registered, Donna hurried toward the vacant room, Face behind her, matching her pace.

"Where would it be?" Her eyes swept the small area. He pushed past her, rifled through the things on the desk, checked under the pillow and bedding, noticed medical scrubs carelessly tossed in a corner of the room.

Donna closed the door, not wanting attention drawn to their efforts, knowing her job was in big time jeopardy already. She reached and slid her fingers over the top of one arcade game. A folded piece of paper fluttered to the floor.

"Could this be it?" She held the note out to Face. He looked up from the napkin he gripped in his hand. Without a word, they exchanged notes.

"But what does this mean?" she stammered. "'Won't be long?' I don't understand."

Face put his hand up, still scanning the crayon scrawled message he held. When he finished, he refolded the paper and tucked it in his suit pocket. "Listen. I can tell you only a limited amount of information for your own safety and for his. Murdock is in danger. That note you have there is a thinly veiled death threat. I believe it's from another patient. A staffer wouldn't have used that method. It's what fueled his anxiety and outbursts these last few days."

"How did you know about . . ."

Face's icy stare kept her from asking the question. Better she not know.

The war veteran pierced her with his eyes, trying to read the level of her loyalty to hospital procedure versus her loyalty to Murdock. How much could he trust her?

"You have an Army low-life colonel prowling around here lately?" She nodded. "Is he visiting Murdock or another patient?"

"Colonel Decker? He used to visit Captain Murdock more often but lately he's been focused on Mr. Connors down the hall. In fact, I was supposed to call him as soon as Mr. Murdock was transferred back up here but to tell the truth, the colonel gives me the creeps so I put it off. Then you showed up."

"So Decker doesn't know yet?" As soon as Face said it, he knew it didn't mean that Connors didn't find a way to pass the information. But wouldn't he have to find a way to access the public phones outside . . .

He hesitated. "Donna, would you do me a huge favor and check to see if Mr. Connors is in his room right now? Don't make it obvious. Just check, okay?" Her eyes widened and she left the room.

In seconds Face had his answer. "Mr. Connors is gone, too. He isn't scheduled for therapy or treatment and he didn't have any pass to go outside."

He gripped her by the shoulders. "Listen, kid, I gotta go find my buddy. Okay? Don't let anyone know that Murdock and Connors are gone. No alarm bells, no searches . . . yet. If Decker shows up, give him BS. Flirt with him. Do _anything _to keep him occupied."

She took a breath to answer but he had already left the room.


	17. Chapter 17 Tracking the Enemy

The Sucker Punch Never Came

Chapter 17 Tracking the Enemy

After writing the note and placing the folded paper on top of the arcade game, Murdock stood by the window staring out across the lawn. He weighed his limited options one by one and figured each of them concluded in his death.

He hoped Face would find the letter he had written. Maybe not right away but sometime after Connors finished his work. If that butcher was not convicted for the death of one insane 'Nam helicopter pilot, he prayed someone would at least believe the memories that pilot wrote down.

He was no longer afraid of what the man would do. Knowing why the man wanted him dead made a difference somehow.

He was surprised when he saw a man in a familiar weathered jacket drop to the lawn from the hospital's wall a short distance from his view. From the path that figure was taking, Murdock knew exactly where Connors was headed.

_Time to see what we're both made of, I guess. I can't let him make the first move. Best defense is a strong offense, or is that the other way around?_

Climbing down the rain gutter was not as difficult as it was the night before. Adrenaline pumped through Murdock's veins and helped him ignore lingering pains in his hand and back. Using every tracking skill he learned from the team while they were in-country, he followed Connors to the public phones.

Murdock caught a glimpse of a black van with red striping parked on a side street. Sudden relief was quickly replaced by concern.

_That's the guys! If Connors makes that call, he's gonna bring Decker crashin' down on them. 'Course, for all I know, Donna did that already. Gotta get Connors now, protect my unit, send them away._

He observed an elderly lady in a wheelchair waiting for someone in the grove of trees the team often used to visit with him.

_Can't fight him here. That lady's gonna get hurt. _

His quarry was almost to the first phone booth when the pilot heard someone call his name. It was a hoarse voice, one that sounded masculine and feminine all at the same time. One that was not meant to draw public attention.

"Murdock! Over here!"


	18. Chapter 18 Uneven Ground

The Sucker Punch Never Came

Chapter 18 Uneven Ground

AN: Warning: Fight scene.

Hannibal saw the jacket but something was not right about the figure wearing it. He was shorter than the Captain, black curly hair, jeans instead of khakis, black work shoes instead of tennies. The man was intent upon reaching the phone booth at the far side of the hospital, several yards from Hannibal's observation post.

The Colonel's stomach churned with the realization that this stranger had his pilot's bomber jacket, the one prized possession Murdock rarely let out of his sight. How did he get it? He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. He _was_ certain this was the mysterious Jerry Connors who had taken such a dislike to his friend.

Hannibal's eyes swept toward the hospital entrance. Another figure was tracing the stranger's path, staying close to the shrubs near the building walls. The Colonel felt an instant relief when he recognized Murdock.

At the same time, he was uncharacteristically unsure of what to do next. Connors' appearance put a huge obstacle in the simple meeting with his pilot that he had planned. Even though he had tucked his handgun into the purse in his lap, Hannibal knew he could not use it here. Too many people, too many questions that would be asked. Probably a crapload of MPs down on their heads in minutes.

But Murdock seemed to have a certainty about what he was doing. He saw the pilot scan the grounds and fix his sight for a few seconds on the van where B. A. waited. Then Murdock's gaze landed on him. He could see the pilot's frown and a second of hesitation before he looked back at Connors.

Murdock passed by the grove of trees, picking up his pace.

Hannibal glanced back at the hospital entrance where Face had emerged. The Lieutenant halted and put a hand over his eyes, shielding them from the sun. Face scanned the parking lot, not looking toward the scene being played out near the phone booth.

The Colonel decided to intervene. Wanting to gain only his pilot's attention, he called out Murdock's name.

"Murdock! Over here!"

Connors swung around, trying to locate the owner of the voice. Murdock used the momentary confusion to rush him. He sprinted the hundred feet between them and launched himself in the air for a full body tackle. They grappled on the grass several feet from the grove of trees.

Murdock and Connors stood, faced each other. The pilot readied himself, curled his right hand into a fist, his left still more of a shield than a weapon.

"C'mon, you angry mudsucker. You want me? You got me. But I won't go down without a fight."

Connors pulled a crudely constructed shiv from a pants pocket. The metal glinted in the sunlight as he passed it from one hand to the other. Murdock's stomach fell. He recognized with horror the uneven playing field that was just created.

_Oh, man. I got trouble. Resourceful mudsucker! Where'd he manage to get that thing anyway? _

The two men circled once, twice, before Connors rushed at Murdock. The blade sliced him across his forearm. He clutched the wound, blood streaming through his fingers, and faced Connors again.

_Gotta stay away from that pig-sticker. Can't let him cut me deep. Gotta stay outta reach._

Breathing hard, wide-eyed and trying to anticipate his opponent's next move, Murdock glanced toward the trees. He hoped someone was seeing all this. The elderly lady had left her wheelchair and was hobbling toward them. He wanted to shout for her to get back but didn't get the words out.

The shiv flashed again, slashing him across the stomach this time. He sensed it was a more serious cut than the arm wound. The searing pain dropped him to one knee.

_Let my guard down! Can't do that. Focus, focus! I wonder how many cuts it'll take before they have enough evidence to send him away. I need an orderly . . . or a doctor._

He staggered to his feet and ran four steps toward the hospital, saw Donna standing at the door. He wondered if she had seen enough to testify and convict Connors once and for all. She was screaming for him to run.

_No duh. _

Connors laughed, caught up to him easily, pushed him to the ground. Murdock rolled, kicked, connected with a kneecap. Connors bellowed with pain.

"Now you know how it feels, turkey," the pilot snarled.

He swayed to his feet again, couldn't turn fast enough to avoid the hand that snaked around his ankle. Murdock twisted as he fell, his bruised back connecting with the ground, his free foot smashing into Connors' elbow again and again until his ankle was free. A burning pain in his calf muscle as Connors made contact with the shiv once more.

_How many cuts? How many more? Someone help me!_

Murdock looked up into Connors' eyes, past his enraged face to the shiv raised high above his chest, blood on its blade. The next cut would be fatal and the pilot knew it.


	19. Chapter 19 Between You and Me

The Sucker Punch Never Came

Chapter 19 Between You and Me

Murdock braced himself for the blow that would take his life.

_Yeah, you might think you won, Connors. But I'll come back and haunt you. So'll the ghosts of those women and children. I'll hunt 'em up and bring 'em with me. And my buddies'll find a way to pay you back. Believe me. They will._

Even as he thought this, the hem of a blue dress appeared in his peripheral vision.

"Leave him alone, you big lug!" Connors lowered the shiv as a rain of blows fell on him from someone Murdock recognized as the old lady in the wheelchair.

As she pummeled him over the shoulders and back with a white pocketbook, Connors faced her assault and shoved her backwards. Breathing hard, he glared at her as she lay on the ground, then turned back to the pilot.

Murdock reacted quickly, rolling on his side away from Connors. He scrambled to his feet. People with familiar faces were running toward them. Faceman, B. A., Donna, Jack the day room attendant . . . but they were still a distance away.

_Focus, Murdock. Don't let him get the edge again. _

Another wild slash with the blade. Murdock anticipated the blow and caught Connors' wrist, twisting it as hard as he could. The blade dropped to the ground and was confiscated by the woman in blue.

"Now it's between you and me, pal. No weapons. Just us."

Murdock swung with his right fist and connected with Connors' jaw, sending him sprawling. Connors gathered his energy and charged at Murdock catching him in the midsection.

Both men staggered backwards into some shrubbery. The pilot straddled Connors, swung viciously, making each blow count. Black-gloved hands finally gripped his wrists and eased him backwards onto the lawn. He gazed up into approving and familiar blue eyes. His energy was spent.

"Hannibal? . . . Uh, Colonel, your wig is crooked," the Captain muttered. He grimaced in pain.

Newly arrived orderlies lifted Connors out first. He struggled wildly as they strapped him to the gurney. "Someday when you least expect it, I'll be there and we'll finish this, Murdock! You can make book on that!"

The lady in blue was kneeling to one side and Donna was on Murdock's other side. The cuts on his arm, belly and leg were hurting something awful. He suddenly felt very tired.

"You take care of our friend here, nurse," the old lady said, fixing Donna with a solemn gaze. "We're taking off before you have visitors of the military persuasion. They ask too many questions."

Donna blinked and a tear escaped, fell unnoticed on the pilot's cheek. She nodded. "Captain Murdock's friends' secrets are safe with me," she whispered.

Murdock reached out and took the elderly woman's hand, looked up into the concerned faces of B. A. and Face and gave them all a weak smile. "See you soon?"

"Count on it, Captain. You heal up."


	20. Chapter 20 Shared Truths

The Sucker Punch Never Came

Chapter 20 Only the Truth Shared Brings Freedom

Note: I do not own The A Team, either the television show or the movie, or any of the characters.

Two Days Later

Dr. Richter did not often have to come to Murdock's room for a therapy session. He would make an exception today. Richter didn't mind. He was certain they were close to a breakthrough. The nurse unlocking the door for him paused before opening it.

"He's been in some pain today from the cuts he received. A four on a scale of ten. He took the medication you prescribed for him one hour ago. He's a little groggy." She hesitated again and Dr. Richter sensed she wanted to ask him something.

Then she seemed to think better of it and knocked on the door before entering.

"Captain? It's Donna. I have Dr. Richter with me. May we come in?"

_Unusual and highly unprofessional behavior. Not surprising, though. He has a way of winning your friendship no matter how crazy he wants us to believe him to be. _

"Donna? Yeah, sure. C'mon in." Murdock's slurred speech sounded as if he were pleased with the prospects of a visit. Or was it something else that made him so happy?

The Captain was lying on his bed. He was dressed in his regular clothes. His jacket hung over a chair in the corner. A shadow of beard growth on his face indicated how much effort he was able to put into daily tasks at this time.

Richter winced at the sight of the rolled up sleeve and the gauzed and taped forearm. The bruises on the left hand were purpling now, the blood diffusing into the surrounding tissues.

"Thank you, nurse. You may leave now." He could not be sure but Richter thought he detected a wistful sadness in the pilot's eyes as the nurse left the room.

"She's a sweet gal, you know that, doc? Like an angel, a sweet beautiful angel. She was there, you know." Murdock's eyes closed for a moment, a small smile tucking at the corners of his mouth.

Richter redirected the conversation, unsure whether he should be privy to how close that relationship was. "You've had quite the adventure the last few days. Should we begin with that?"

The smile left Murdock's face and was replaced by a frown. "Sure, I guess."

"When you were placed in lock-down . . ." Richter noted the slight tremor.

"I'm not sure I'm ready for that discussion yet, doc."

Richter pressed on. He had to piece the Connors-Murdock connection together. It was one of the ways he could help his patient. "When you were there, did you have a flashback?"

The doctor saw from the pinched expression that he had. "Take your time, Captain. You have to be able to tell me to begin to heal the memory."

Murdock flashed him a mixed look of doubt and anguish and snorted. "No matter how bad it is? You know better than that, doc. Some of those memories have hidey holes so deep inside me, they won't ever leave."

"But I need to know. Was Jerry Connors in that flashback?"

Hesitation, nervous fidgeting, silence. Murdock drew his bandaged arm over his eyes and sighed.

"From his file, I know Connors had something against you. You had him arrested after he assaulted you in Saigon. Do you know why he did that?"

A flicker of emotion passed across the portion of the pilot's face that Dr. Richter could see. More silence.

"The knife wounds he gave you two days ago are not enough to keep him away forever. He may be sent back here when they think he is no longer violent. Surely you know that."

Murdock uncovered his eyes and looked at the doctor. From the confusion registering on his face, Richter could tell his patient had been counting on Connors' attack to save him.

"If there is something in Connors' past that provoked his assault on you in Saigon and here, we need to know. It was a long time between those incidents. A long time for a simple grudge to be perpetuated."

He could see tormented emotions bubbling to the surface and hated having to bring his special patient to this point. It was moments like these when Richter wished he had never made psychiatry his field.

Murdock squeezed his eyes shut and began, his voice a hoarse whisper at first, becoming more choked as he told of the massacre he had witnessed.

"You never told anyone?" _Silly question. Would this have bothered his patient so much if he had?_

"That's one of the questions that's botherin' me, doc. _Why _didn't I turn them in at the time? _Why _was I alone in the air? Was that in my dream or was it real? What happened to the other three murderers? Am I still enough of a threat to them that the others will come looking for me?"

His patient was becoming agitated. Richter had to say something to calm him. "I _may _be able to find the answer to those last two questions with some prying. The other questions may have to wait until you can stomach the answers. Can you do that, Captain?"

Murdock drew in a shaky breath and gazed at the doctor. "I've waited this long. What's a few more sessions?"


	21. Chapter 21 Loose Ends

The Sucker Punch Never Came

Chapter 21 Loose Ends

"Sure you're up to this?" For the fifth time since they left the VA hospital Face asked Murdock about his physical and mental well-being.

The events of the last week left the pilot with numerous stitches in three places on his body and several unanswered questions. More than once he had awakened in the middle of the night with the flashback nightmare lingering in the darkness, quickly receding and just blurry enough that he could not find his answers.

"All I got to do is fly the birdie to Vegas, right? Long as the sky don't turn purple and I don't get into any knife fights, I'll be fine." Murdock pasted his best no-problemo grin on his face, hoping his friend would not probe. He unconsciously touched his tender belly where the inflicted cuts had been deepest.

_Connors couldn't have done better at almost killin' me if he'd been a hack surgeon goin' for my appendix. _

He knew Hannibal would have plenty of questions for him to answer when they arrived. Murdock was surprised the debriefing had not come sooner. But then, the team had been laying low, waiting for the word from Donna that Decker had given up for now.

He knew as surely as the rising and setting of the sun that Decker would return someday soon. He would have to be vigilant in case Decker tried to get to the A team through him again.

Face parked in the alley beside an abandoned warehouse. Murdock opened the Corvette door instead of climbing over the door frame like he usually did. He could not afford to tear stitches open when there was a mission to be completed.

The two friends entered the warehouse through the nearest door.

"Welcome back, Captain." Hannibal's cigar tip glowed red in the building's dimly lit interior. "How're you feeling?"

"Ready and able, Colonel." Murdock sensed there was more to the question but he chose to ignore it.

B. A. nodded a sulky greeting from his place by a pallet of boxes. "We got a mission. If you can't pull your end, say it now, fool. Don't jazz us."

"B. A.! Go stand guard." Hannibal's voice cut through the air. The words had an edge to them. The big black man grumbled but obeyed.

As soon as B. A. shut the door behind him, Hannibal emerged from the darkness where he had been privately gauging the pilot's condition. "Sorry about that. B. A.'s just jumpy. He's been arguing all morning that we could drive to Vegas instead. Come sit down, Captain." He motioned toward three chairs set up in front of another pallet of merchandise.

Murdock limped to his seat between Hannibal and Face. He knew it was obvious. His friends noticed. But, dang, the stitched gashes still hurt sometimes and there was no hiding the pain.

"I understand our friend Jerry Connors is now in a hospital for the criminally insane." It was a statement, not a question, but the pilot knew it was also an opening for him to start talking.

What could he say? "Yeah, the angry mudsucker got himself in with the boys that're just as angry and nuts as he is."

Hannibal decided to lay his information cards on the table. "Okay, we understand from his files that Connors had you beaten up in Saigon and you pressed charges for assault against him and his buddies. Why you?"

Murdock swallowed. He had been expecting the question, attempted to manufacture a vague response but found himself telling Face and Hannibal his entire flashback dream. He ended with why he had been following Connors and the current status.

"My shrink got the ball rollin' on all of that. So now Connors and I wait in some kinda limbo 'til the military hearing. I gotta testify to what I saw way back then. It could be as big as the My Lai trials."

"But there are no guarantees they will believe you?" Hannibal pressed.

"Word of a crazy man against the word of a homicidal crazy man? I don't know, Colonel. I gotta stay sane until the hearing. Make myself believable."

"And there were no other witnesses?" Face asked.

"That's just it. I _know_ I wouldn't a been alone in the air with a bird back then. Not where I was. I would a had at least one gunner and an observer if I was doin' reconnaissance. I _sense_ they're in the chopper but I never see their faces. And Jag's three buddies never made it through the war. Dr. Richter found that out for me."

In a way, Murdock thought it was a type of gruesome poetic justice. The remains of the three murderers had been blown across the countryside in Thua Thien-Hue Province but he remembered too many buddies who died in agony to rejoice in the fact. No one deserved to die that far from home. No one.

"I don't know, guys." The pilot eased back in his chair and closed his eyes against the concern in their faces. "My shrink's trying his damnedest to bring back the memory but it's stuck in some deep dark corner. Maybe I'll never know the answers."

Hannibal shifted his position, stared off into the dim corners of the warehouse, reflecting on his own buried memories. Face's eyes were clouded with his own thoughts.

When Hannibal spoke, his voice grated. "We all have memories and questions. We'll never have all the answers, Captain. Never."


End file.
